Art Is All About Starting Again

Aug 092010

Art is all about starting again.

Throughout my life as an artist I’ve faced (and so far beaten) that tendency that every single artist faces from time to time. Some artists are able to beat it but most aren’t.

That tendency?

Quitting.

We aren’t talking about stopping. We’re talking about quitting. Never picking up the brush, the pen, or the camera again.

There is a difference. I’ve stopped making art for days, months, even years at a time. But I’ve never really quit. I’ve never lost that core thing inside of me that gives me my identity as a person.

I hope that I never lose it.

In truth, I don’t think I could.

I do wonder though;

Why do so many artists just quit?

Why do they let their brushes go dry? What makes them pack up their cameras never to use them again?

Is it fear?

Sometimes I think that discovering the answer to this question would somehow help prevent me from becoming an art quitter. Another failed artist.

I don’t mind “failing” really.

I don’t think I really will fail to be honest and not quite so freakin’ humble.

I just figure that I’ll be too stubborn or shortsighted to know that I’ve failed and I’ll die trying.

I think I’m okay with that.

Own It

art View Comments

Jul 292010

Original.

Overrated.

Obstacles in our paths. That’s what both of these words represent to me.

One is the quest for making your own mark in the world. The thing that sets you apart. The idea or vision that every artist truly attempts even if they search for it in the works of the masters of the past. This can take more than a lifetime.

One is the idea that once we “make it” someone, somewhere, has the ability to completely denounce our hard work and possibly end our career (even before it’s really began). The art world is brutal and fickle. It can be maddening to entrench yourself in this arena and even more maddening to find yourself a spectacle instead of a gladiator.

Over it. That’s how I have to be when these thoughts creep into me. I have to strive past the idea that true originality is unattainable. I have to suppress the fear that someone out there, without any control of my own, can “make or break” my career.

Own it. I own it. I own my art. I own my path. I own my career.

Process VS Product

art View Comments

Jul 112010

One of the toughest, yet freeing, moves that I’ve had to make internally, as an artist, is moving from creating a product to creating art for purpose.

As a portrait and wedding photographer I would have a vision, often worked out between myself and the client, and everything creative would be done in an effort to bring to life that vision. Most of the time I was very successful in guiding the craft. But there were many times where I would produce wonderful photographs that went outside said vision and the clients would sometimes buy those and sometimes wouldn’t.

I took it too personally I think.

It’s always been a flaw of mine when it comes to my artwork.

I think that’s why I HAD to get away from doing portraits and weddings. It was too personal for me.

Okay, there are other reasons why I got away from working for clients. My back problems make me unreliable and the thought of having to call a potential client and tell her that I can’t shoot her wedding in a couple of days because my back went out would kill me. It never happened, but the possibility was always there and it lingered in my mind every time I would wake up sore or stiff or in so much pain that I’m seeing spots.

Back problems aside, I think I would have become miserable if I had continued down that path.

I crave the process much more than the product.

I’m not a map follower by nature. Not when it comes to nurturing my creative instincts. Having a plan, a goal, a vision doesn’t make me a better artist. It made me a better portrait photographer, and a better business person, but not a better artist.

When I work on photography for process I have freedom. I can go anywhere. The possibilities are endless.

I can follow whatever instincts and insights that hit me.

I can listen to my internal voices and let the magic capture me.

I think there’s a basic human nature to explore and to experiment. To find the unknown.

When I look at my kiddos I marvel at how free they are in the works they create. They have no barriers. There are no parameters that they have to work within.

Right now they are playing at my mother’s house getting all dirty and creative with sidewalk chalk. It’s a fantastic world they live in where the sky is truly the limit.

As children we’re taught so much. How to read. How to write. How to behave in society. How to study. How to learn.

So much structure.

While structure is good for learning how to behave in society, it does so much harm to our inherent creativity.

I think that’s why so many people who have “returned to art” struggle with the process. They look at is a structured path or look for some road map to follow.

The road maps are good for the business side, but for me, at least, I have to ignore the structure and toss out the map.

I need to feel like I have the freedom to create artwork that is without boundaries (unless I specify them as exercise).

I’m insanely jealous of my beautiful children. They inspire me to be more free with my work. And aside from their unfiltered and boundless love, that inspiration is the greatest gift they could give me.